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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23065936">short stories concerning the epic love story of geralt and jaskier</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionslute/pseuds/dandelionslute'>dandelionslute</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:13:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,812</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23065936</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionslute/pseuds/dandelionslute</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of short fics from tumblr prompts (not connected)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Julian</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt: Geralt calling Jaskier Julian... maybe when he's apologising for the mountain break-up scene, or when Jaskier gets hurt during a fight or whatever scenario you can think of, I just really need Geralt to call him Julian, like I get goosebumps just thinking about it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s a few hours past midnight, a few weeks past heartbreak, and Jaskier’s curled up in the corner of an inn with his lute and bag beside him trying to sleep, ‘cause he can’t afford a room for the night but the barkeep said he could stay if he played. And so he did, singing the most heartbreaking songs he could think of, and not a single line about tossing coins to witchers.</p><p>It must be sometime close to sunrise when a loud clearing of throat causes him to stir and jump up, prying his eyes open against his exhaustion and blinking at the man standing before him.</p><p>“Geralt?”</p><p>-</p><p>“I don’t want to hear it, Geralt,” Jaskier croaks, as Geralt hauls him through the door of a room he’d bartered from the barkeep in exchange for a small ingot of silver he’d found in a ruin nearby, keeping to himself that it was actually pewter.</p><p>Geralt closes the door behind them and turns to face Jaskier. His eyes drag up and down the bard’s body, mouth pressed firm and shoulders tense. “Sorry.”</p><p>Jaskier leans his head forward, raising both eyebrows. “<em>Sorry?</em> That’s all? Oh, I knew you were a man of few words Geralt, but that is just pathetic.”</p><p>The words hit Geralt’s chest like a fucking horses hoof and he looks uncomfortable. He takes a huge breath in and exhales slowly. “I’m sorry, Jaskier. I never meant those things. I was so furious, so angry, Yennefer-”</p><p>“Oh no,” Jaskier laughs and shakes his head, pointing his finger at Geralt. “Don’t you blame her for this. You said those words to me, not her.”</p><p>Geralt bites his lip. “But I-”</p><p>“No. No buts. What are you doing here Geralt? You can’t even apologise right.”</p><p>It even hurts Jaskier, and he’s the one who said it. Geralt recoils, looking back at the door. Maybe this was a bad idea. He turns back to Jaskier.</p><p>“I took it out on you Jaskier, I never meant to say those things. I don’t blame you, for anything, the djinn, the child surprise.. none of that was your fault.” He pauses. “Maybe the djinn, a little.”</p><p>Jaskier scoffs and puts his hands on his hips, juts one out to the side. Waiting.</p><p>“Fuck. I was an idiot. I wanted to come after you as soon as you left,” Geralt admits, and Jaskier’s a little shocked by it. </p><p>“Why didn’t you?”</p><p>“I fucked up. I thought the damage was done. You would never have forgiven me. It was best to just let you leave.. you were safer that way, too. I put you in so much danger.”</p><p>Jaskier smirks, because he just can’t help himself. He folds his arms across his chest and puffs it out. “I like danger.”</p><p>“This isn’t a joke, Jaskier,” Geralt growls. “I’m trying to protect you.”</p><p>“Oh, sure, yeah,” Jaskier rolls his eyes. “It’s a poor excuse, Geralt, this whole <em>trying to protect me</em> thing. Go ahead, be honest. If you don’t want me around, just be a man and say it. Tell me to fuck off, tell me you don’t want-”</p><p>“<em>Julian.</em>”</p><p>Jaskier <em>almost</em> gasps. “What did you call me?”</p><p>“Julian,” Geralt replies, softly. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”</p><p>“You’ve never called me tha-”</p><p>Geralt interrupts. “And I didn’t want you to leave.. I fucked up. And I’m sorry. Please, allow me to make it up to you.”</p><p>Jaskier shakes his head and pouts. “I don’t know, Geralt. How would you possibly ever manage that?”</p><p>Geralt holds a finger up in pause and turns around to hide himself from Jaskier, pulls his bag from his back, setting it on the table and rifling through it. Jaskier taps his foot impatiently. When Geralt seems to have found what he was looking for, he turns around, and offers Jaskier a simple bunch of yellow dandelions. </p><p>They’re a little broken. Just like him.</p><p>And ever the romantic, Jaskier smiles. “Call me Julian again.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. vampire!Jaskier</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If your still taking requests, all the creature!jaskier stories have been filling a need I didn't know I had, but I've seen very few with the idea of Jaskier being a vampire from the beginning. I get that it's angstier with him transforming in front of Geralt, but I like the idea that the nights he's sleeping around, he's actually feeding and Geralt doesn't think much on the smell of blood since some people are into it being rough, up until he accidentally walks in on Jaskier fang deep in a neck.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Finally.</em>
</p><p>It’s the early hours of the morning and Geralt’s taken the left side of the double bed because it’s closer to the door and should someone come looking for trouble, he was in a better strategical position to hold the room, and to protect Jaskier. Also, it was the less damp side.</p><p>He’s been lying awake for who knows how many hours, the sun threatening to peak up past the hills any moment now, when the latch on the door finally clicks open, and he doesn’t have to worry because he can smell instantly that it’s Jaskier. But where the fuck has he been? Well, Geralt knew the answer to that, but still. Why bother coming back this late. Or was it early?</p><p>They’d been playing this game ever since they met - Jaskier sneaking (and sometimes not sneaking) off at night, never really hiding the fact that he was flitting about and finding love wherever he could. Geralt wondered what it was about Jaskier that drew so many people in, I mean, if you ignored the gorgeous eyes and soft hair and lovely lips and tall, lithe body and talented fingers and dreamy voice and the way he breathed and -</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Jaskier’s kind, he thinks, too kind, in the way he walks on his toes as silent as possible to climb into bed beside Geralt and not wake him. Geralt lays still, eyes closed, breathing gently but he has to really make a point to not sit up in surprise when he smells blood, and it’s not Jaskier’s blood, oh no.</p><p>And that’s new.</p><p><em>Okay</em>, he thinks, squeezing his eyes tight. <em>This is okay. Maybe they got a little carried away. Some people like it rough. But blood? And wait.. if this wasn’t Jaskier’s blood, but someone else’s… was Jaskier the one who made them bleed? </em>That thought definitely shouldn’t turn him on a little, but it does anyway.</p><p>-</p><p>Geralt notices it more. Jaskier creeping back in with that hot scent mixed with his and Geralt can almost taste the metallic tang of it. Maybe this was Jaskier’s <em>thing.</em></p><p>-</p><p>He told Jaskier he’d be gone all night. So it’s really his own fault when he opens the door and is met with.. well. A sight, that’s for sure.</p><p>A lovely blonde woman with her sleeve dropping off her shoulder, leaning up against the wall beside the bed with Jaskier’s hands around her waist and his head buried in her neck, body pressed in close. Her eyes flutter a little but land on Geralt, standing in the doorway, and she shakes Jaskier’s shoulders frantically.</p><p>He turns and looks at Geralt and there’s blood staining his lower lip and red on his fangs.</p><p>
  <em>Fangs?</em>
</p><p>Geralt un-sheaths his sword quickly and points it at the pair. He narrows his eyes at the woman and makes space in the doorway beside him. “Go.”</p><p>She slips out of Jaskier’s grasp and runs.</p><p>Geralt turns his attention to Jaskier, who’s wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand and backing up into the corner. “I can explain,” he stutters, putting his hands up in a sign of surrender. </p><p>Geralt’s silent, thinking. He keeps his sword raised. “The blood.. the smell.”</p><p>“Shit,” Jaskier swallows and he can’t help but dart his tongue out to lick across the blood on his lip, immediately regretting it when Geralt glares at him. “I didn’t think, I thought I’d cleaned up enough. You weren’t supposed to smell it.”</p><p>Geralt raises an eyebrow. “I’m a Witcher. You thought I wouldn’t <em>smell</em> it? I was engineered to have a sense of smell better than even the most well trained hound.”</p><p>Jaskier just blinks at him.</p><p>“What the fuck is going on here, Jaskier?” Geralt asks, and his voice is angry now, demanding.</p><p>Jaskier look down at the floor and runs his hands through his hair. He looks back up at Geralt. <em>Well, here goes.</em> “I’m a vampire.”</p><p>This time, it’s Geralt who blinks. “What?”</p><p>“A vampire,” Jaskier replies, “surely you’ve heard of them.”</p><p>Geralt says nothing at the joke, the sword still raised in his hand, not quite sure if he should drop it just yet or not.</p><p>“Fuck,” Jaskier sighs and shifts on his feet a little. “I’ve always been a vampire. I was… born like this. I’m not bad though, I promise. I only feed on people who let me,” he insists, eyes wide. “I would never hurt anybody.”</p><p>It’s true. Geralt knows it.</p><p>“I couldn’t tell you,” Jaskier continues, taking a step towards Geralt and Geralt tips his head with a warning look, keeping the sword pointed at him. “I met you, and I’d never met anyone like you… and I never have again. I couldn’t tell you and have you leave me. Or <em>kill</em> <em>me</em>, maybe,” Jaskier makes a face and Geralt thinks <em>I never could.</em></p><p><em>“</em>I only feed on people who let me, and it’s funny how many people do,” he repeats, another step closer. “I swear it. I always thought it was easier for you to think I was off entangled in the arms of a lover, which I suppose is not always entirely untrue,” he gives a playful little smirk and Geralt feels a wave of jealousy crash into him.</p><p>“People let you?” Geralt manages, eyes fixated on Jaskier as he steps a little closer.</p><p>Jaskier shrugs. “I guess people get one look at these,” he twitches his top lip just enough for the tips of his fangs to show, “and get a little.. curious.”</p><p>The way he says it makes Geralt’s face hot.</p><p>“It’s not like I’m turning them, Geralt,” Jaskier says and he reaches his hand out to the tip of Geralt’s sword, gentle fingers pushing it downwards with no resistance. “I’m just.. hungry. I need to eat. And it’s better to find someone who’s willing, than to go stalking prey in the night.”</p><p>Geralt puts his sword away, against every instinct in his body. Jaskier smiles.</p><p>“Why go in search of someone who could betray you.. show interest and then turn around and slay you,” Geralt says, upset at Jaskier’s recklessness. “You could’ve just-”</p><p>“What? Told you? Asked you?” he laughs. “I’m hungry, Geralt, can I have some <em>blood</em>?”</p><p>Geralt says nothing, and it says everything.</p><p>“Oh,” Jaskier says quietly, blushing a little. His eyes dance across Geralt’s face, lingering on his mouth just a little. “You’d let me, wouldn’t you?”</p><p>It’s an easy answer -<em> yes</em> - but Geralt can’t make a sound. He nods.</p><p>Jaskier closes the distance between them with a few more steps and Geralt catches him by the hips with firm hands. Jaskier’s eyes are low and they dart between Geralt’s own, and his throat. </p><p>“Then let me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. hurt!Jaskier x caring!Geralt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Jaskier almost dying and Geralt nursing him back to health?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had happened so fast  - so fucking fast - and there’s blood soaking Jaskier’s shirt, and Geralt’s got him falling weakly against his front, one hand holding Roach’s reigns and the other wrapped tight against the bard who’s dropping in and out of consciousness.</p><p>“Hey - stay with me. Stay awake Jaskier, we’re almost there, just stay awake,” and he knows Jaskier probably can’t even hear him but he can’t stop saying it.</p><p>He knows the bubbling blood spilling from Jaskier’s mouth is not a good sign.</p><p>“It can be done, but it’ll cost you. This kind of magic is not common… nor cheap,” the cold mage says with clasped hands, his face hidden by a hooded robe. Geralt seethes - the mage should count himself lucky Geralt doesn’t slice his head off on the spot, but maybe there’ll be time for that later. He throws a heavy purse at the mage and nods.</p><p>How long’s it been? He doesn’t even know. The mage opens the door and Geralt’s on his feet and in his face immediately. “Will he live?” he asks, desperate voice asking the most simple but important question.</p><p>“Yes. But he has lost a lot of blood, and that’s something I can’t help you with. I’ve repaired his lung and the broken ribs,  but he’s going to need time to heal.”</p><p>Geralt swallows and nods.</p><p>-</p><p>Three days. Three days it takes for Jaskier to wake up. Geralt doesn’t leave his side. He watches every damn breath Jaskier takes, just to make sure they’re there. He watches the pulse in his neck beat far too slow, but it beats, and Geralt’s heart falls into rhythm with it.</p><p>“Hey,” is all Geralt can muster when Jaskier finally opens his eyes, groggy, tired and slow, suddenly overcome with panic and fear. He winces and goes clutching at his chest, and Geralt grabs his hands, pulling them away. “Hey, you’re okay, it’s okay,” he says, firm but gentle as he stops Jaskier pulling at the bandage wrapped around his chest. </p><p>“You’re alive,” Geralt says, and it’s more for his sake than Jaskier’s.</p><p>-</p><p>The mage was right, Jaskier <em>is</em> weak. He can barely lift his head to drink the water Geralt offers him every so often. He quickly learns that Jaskier can drink easier if he offers it from a flask, his mouth able to fix onto the spout, instead of water pouring from a mug all over him. Jaskier makes a sound every time that sounds like he’s just drunk it for the first time in his life.</p><p>Geralt also learns very quickly that Jaskier’s in pain. And so he finds the best apothecary in town, finds healing herbs and potions and buys every last one of them. He makes Jaskier tea with them.</p><p>Geralt bathing Jaskier is less about an excuse to see him naked and more about dragging a soft sponge across his skin and running water through his hair, and if Jaskier tips his head back a little and makes a happy moan, Geralt decides it’s got nothing to do with intimacy.</p><p>It takes weeks of Geralt doing this, helping Jaskier keep warm when his body becomes a little too cold; dancing his fingertips across Jaskier’s forehead and humming him to sleep; changing his bandage every few days and checking the gash across his chest has not become inflammed; helping him eat and drink and wash; before Jaskier is ready to move again. “Let’s go Geralt, I’ve rested and I’m better, and I’m positively out of my mind with boredom,” he whines.</p><p>Geralt decides he needs another week of being cared for, <em>at least,</em> and it’s more for his sake than Jaskier’s.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. this is normal, right?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay first of all, your writing is incredible!!! if you're still taking prompts, maybe Geralt is confused about his feelings about Jaskier and then he sees him taking care of Roach and he's like ohh??? I'm in love????</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="post-content">
  <p></p>
  <div class="replies">
    <p>He was sure this was <em>normal</em>. This dance of butterflies deep within his belly and the way his heart sped up so it was only <em>three</em> times slower than a normal man’s. It only made sense. He’d been alongside Jaskier for years now, growing comfortable with one another. He assumed his fondness for the bard came down to this familiarity, this literal, physical closeness that had developed between the two of them. But underlying all of this attempted logic and reason was the feeling of something more, something that made it feel like Geralt’s heart had thick vines shooting out, digging into the bard, wrapping around his arms and his chest and his heart and hissing <em>don’t you ever fucking leave me.</em></p>
    <p>That was normal, right?</p>
    <p>He’s sure what he felt was just the product of two people spending so much time together. Because Jaskier still annoyed the ever-loving shit out of him, with his incessant chatter and singing and all-round idiocy. Saying smart ass things to people he <em>definitely should not</em> be saying smart ass things to, singing about absolutely fucking everything, and asking Geralt one thousand and one questions about every monster Jaskier could think of. It made Geralt grit his teeth, scrunch his face and take a breath; wanting so badly to wrap his hands around Jaskier’s shoulders and shake him, saying <em>shut up shut up shut up, </em>and then kiss him with a rough fervor until both of them were out of breath.</p>
    <p>That was normal, too, right?</p>
    <p>He ignored it, <strike>barely</strike> mostly. Just put it down to Jaskier’s charisma and charm. For Jaskier had this innate ability to make you want to simultaneously throw him out a castle window just for a little bit of peace, and sit him in the throne and crown him King. <em>He’d look so pretty in a crown.</em></p>
    <p>
      <em>Stop it.</em>
    </p>
    <p>It’s not until one night when Geralt’s dragged his feet from the river back to camp, all wet hair and clean skin and moonlight in his eyes, that he really, <em>really </em>feels it. Because Jaskier is there, standing long limbed and luscious beside Roach, brushing his fingers through her mane so softly. Forehead pressed against her neck, scratching beneath her chin, gently crooning a wordless melody against her coat.</p>
    <p>And Geralt feels his heart burst.</p>
    <p>And it doesn’t really feel <em>romantic</em>. </p>
    <p>It feels.. formidable. Terrifying. Colossal. <em>Astronomical</em>. </p>
    <p>And wonderful.</p>
  </div>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>post ep 6 jaskier travels alone and ends up meeting some other witcher, maybe one that isnt as emotionally constipated as geralt, and they travel together bc hey he still needs stories to sing. months down the line geralt comes across them together and is just flabbergasted because his bard? has replaced him?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He wasn’t as good a fighter as Geralt. Nor as nimble on his feet, nor as broody or mysterious. Nor as sexy. But, he fought monsters, and that made for good songs.</p><p>“Hey, Jorik, fancy a few pints down the inn?” Jaskier asks one evening, and is completely surprised when Jorik replies, “Let’s go.” He’d already started taking his shoes off for bed. He puts them back on.</p><p>They talk all the way to the inn.</p><p>“I loved her, but in the end, letting her go was the best thing I could have done for her. She deserved a life, with a husband, maybe a farmer, and a kid or two. Not a witcher. Not a life like this.” </p><p>Jaskier blinks at Jorik and leans across the table, moving their ales aside. “You mean… no terrifying albeit sexy witches involved…. no.. on again off again unhealthy relationship resulting in mutual pain and despair and the abandoning of best friends? Nothing like that?”</p><p>“No, no. What a tragedy. No.” And Jorik <em>seems</em> happy enough, without a crazy sorceress pulling pieces of his heart apart here and there, coming and going, trying to kill Jaskier with a djinn, the usual.</p><p>The more they travel, the more they bond. They share stories, ale, campfires. Jaskier sings great songs about Jorik, the emotionally stable, very good monster fighting Witcher. It seems perfect.</p><p>Until it’s not.</p><p>Until one evening, a white haired wisp of the past drifts into the inn and Jorik looks up before Jaskier, sensing another Witcher, Jaskier guesses. </p><p>“Geralt,” Jaskier mouths, but no sound comes out.</p><p>And Geralt sees them, there, together. Friends? Wait - why wasn’t Jaskier alone. He didn’t <em>want</em> Jaskier to be alone, but why was he with another Witcher? Had Jaskier…. had Jaskier replaced him? Gone out and found <em>another Witcher?</em> To replace <em>him, Geralt of Rivia?</em></p><p>“Ah, Geralt old friend,” Jorik smiles, standing to greet him, and Geralt strides straight past him and into Jaskier’s personal space.</p><p>“Another Witcher?” he asks, and Jaskier would swear it sounded almost hurt.</p><p>“What did you want me to do, sit alone under a tree and cry until I starved to death and died?” Jaskier replies, ever the dramatic.</p><p>“No, but.. replace me?” Geralt asks, eyes darting between Jaskier’s, scrutinizing him.</p><p>And when Jaskier hears the words, he knows he never could.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. feral!Jaskier</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Could you write a fic that’s just Geralt getting like fling out of a bar or something of the sort and Jaskier goes full over protective boyfriend mode on whoever and somehow he is scarier than the legit Witcher</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No Witchers allowed.”</p><p>Geralt blinks and Jaskier scoffs. “Excuse me. Do you not understand that this incredibly brave man has just slaughtered an entire coven of vampires not five miles from the front door of this pathetic excuse of an establishment? And you <em>deny him ale</em>?”</p><p>The man stays silent but firm on his feet, arms crossed, chest puffed out.</p><p>“Come on, Jaskier,” Geralt says flatly, turning away.</p><p>“No, no no,” Jaskier says, lifting a finger in pause. “We’re getting an ale,” he looks the innkeeper square in the eye and his lip twitches upwards in a slight snarl, “here.”</p><p>“You can come in,” the innkeeper says, looking Jaskier up and down, then tipping his head towards Geralt. “Not ‘im though. Don’t like Witchers ‘round here. Unnatural folk.”</p><p>“Unnat- have you lost your senses? Has the constant smell of beer completely destroyed your already tiny little brain-”</p><p>“Jaskier-”</p><p>“Did you not hear what I just said, about the very dangerous vampire slaying?” and his voice turns deep, angry, hissing. He steps so close to the innkeeper that he’s practically standing on his feet. “A whole coven,” Jaskier whispers, sharp, right against his ear, “who would’ve thought nothing of coming into this town and ripping your disgusting throat out,” - the innkeeper swallows - “something that <em>may</em> still happen tonight if you don’t let me and my Witcher into your <em>fine establishment</em>.”</p><p>It even gives Geralt goosebumps. And maybe something else.</p><p>The innkeeper breaks and steps aside, hands up. “Alright alright,” he says, trying to hide the tremble in his breath, “but any funny business, and you’re both out.”</p><p>Jaskier’s twisted smile turns back into a pleasant grin and he claps the innkeeper on the shoulder. “Very good, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he chirps, looking sideways at Geralt. “Come on, Witcher.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. does he know?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kind of an odd one but maybe geralt needs to go back to kaer morhen for some reason and jaskier meets a bunch of witchers. Feel free to decide if they are hostile bc they dont trust humans especially bc hes in their home, or if they take one look at geralt and see that hes whipped and treat jaskier much different than geralt was assuming. Perhaps jaskier was oblivious to his pining. Love your writing btw, it amazes me every single time!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Don’t break anything.”</p><p>The huge metal doors to the keep open and the sound echos throughout the entire fortress. Geralt looks around the empty room, scanning and surveying, with Jaskier close behind him, amazed but wary. Geralt steps forward into the dark dining hall of the keep, when a rumbling voice calls out from the shadows.</p><p>“Geralt of Rivia. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you here again.”</p><p>Geralt’s hardened expression turns into a soft smile. “Vesemir,” he says fondly, moving to greet the man stepping out of the shadows and into Geralt’s arms. “It’s been a long time, my old fr-”</p><p>A sharp cry from across the room has Geralt quickly pulling away from the hug and reaching for his sword on instinct. He spins on his feet, only to see Jaskier grimacing and trying to pull away from another man who has his fist wrapped around his wrist. The man is snarling and Geralt can smell the anger from him and the fear from Jaskier.</p><p>“He’s with me, Lambert,” Geralt calls confidently from across the room and the other Witcher looks between the two of them. Between Geralt, with his long dirty hair and sharp swords and scarred face, and this… pretty bard. With a lute.</p><p>And then Lambert’s face changes. He sneers, smirks. He drops Jaskier’s wrist and it falls limp by his side. Lambert stalks towards Geralt and stops a few feet in front of him, making a <em>very obvious point</em> to inhale deeply through his nose - and <em>fuck</em> - Geralt realises. </p><p>Because Witchers can’t just smell humans. Oh, no. They can smell other Witchers, too. </p><p>And when Lambert inhales, he smells it all. The protectiveness, the jealousy, the want. The need. Lust, love, longing. Lambert cocks an eyebrow at Geralt and turns back to look at Jaskier, who’s nursing his wrist and looking absently around the keep.</p><p>Lambert’s voice is low. “Does he know?”</p><p>The smell of shame and sadness pouring out of Geralt is answer enough.</p>
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